prologue: Hidden
by strawberri sweetness
Summary: yada, yada, yada, read, read, read, review, review, review! pls! pls! pls!!!
1. Default Chapter

HMM, THiS iS PReTTy CLiCHe, iSN'T iT? OKaY, THis is JaMieS'S Li'L 7YRoLR SiSTeR POV, aND HeR HouSe HaS JuST BeeN BRoKeN iNTo (aND By DeaTH EaTeRS!). *thats getting pretty tiring, so i'll stop now* She seems pretty unfeeling later on, but its not like she's cold and heartless, its just that she's not old enough to understand the current situations. That and ignorance.

          The chapters aren't going to be very long (at least, I think) and I really AM trying my best to keep this series going. Be a little bit patient with me (though u r free to flame me if the urge ever comes) and pls do have a little understanding; this is something like my first fic and I've got mid-terms next week... :( Do Me a LoT oF GooD aND R/R!

          --@EVeRyTHiNG u ReCoGNiZe iS MS. JKROWLiNG'S aND eVeRyTHiNG THaT you DoN'T is MiNe, MiNe, MiNe!@--

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-prologue-

**Hidden**

_by stawberri sweetness_

          I was hidden in the uppermost shelf of the cupboard, pinching myself to stay quite as I shook and watched with eyes wide and scared and disbelieving. Men so unknown of and new to me they almost seemed alien ravaged through the house, creating a mess that achieved beyond the utter messiness of Daedrid's bedroom. Godric's Hollow had never seen anything like this, nor had my still raw and callow eyes and I wondered why Papa or one of my too many brothers didn't swoop down and stop these obviously _bad_ men. I had a strange kiddish desire to jump down and fearlessly save my beloved home (whilst half-immersed in imagining my whole family coming to me with tears in their eyes thanking me and saying things like 'if it weren't for Lian!')

          Something a dash wiser than my imagination told me not to, though. That, and the all too serious voice of Papa telling me to stay here quietly, to wait until these men had gone away, to run to phantom Black's villa and something about getting help. I tried to keep this all in mind but all of the sudden the seriousness and danger and Terribles of everything going on struck me. This isn't a game, a determinedly (though resulting mimic-y) stern voice at the back of my mind whispered to me.

          The real grown-up tension that wasn't yet supposed to affect me planted its cancer straight to the pit of my stomach and my worried brains. When I felt footsteps getting closer, I shut my eyes so tight they screamed and prayed so bad that I guess the guy could hear me anyway. When I heard the faintest sign of screaming/shouting (I couldn't yet differentiate) I clogged my tiny ears with my chubby fingers till they hurt bad. But still I could see the imagined images in my mind, and still I could hear the screaming shouting clearly.

          The shouting told most of the story, mostly because they were real. At first I could hear the gruff alien voices of the Bad Men ordering people here and there. Then I could hear more familiar voices (though my puny head just wouldn't sort them correctly) at first demanding, then reasoning, then angry; a whole set of changes so drastic and abrupt. And then there were the returning angry or amused or superior voices that were so gruff and mean and villainous. I guess that I was crying by then, but that the sound of all my blubbering was deafened by the shouting. My crying stopped when I heard a scream-shriek, a chorus of laughs, then footsteps. There too were gruff murmurs and talk, and then the sound of closing doors.

          'Are they gone yet, Anna?' I whispered to my redheaded cloth doll. She didn't seem to know, so I guess that's why she didn't say anything but kept on smiling and staring straight to the cupboard door.

          'Look?' I whispered anxiously, utterly astonished by her bravery. 'Are you sure?'

          Her solemn silence seemed enough for me, because I soon shoved away the many blankets and bags Papa had piled over me, pushed open the cupboard door and jumped clumsily down to the small heap of fabric. The fabric did little to break my fall, and I slipped and fell flat on my face. I was scared and could smell the creeping grown-up badness, so I ran as fast as I could to the door, and then to the only other house propped on the other hill.

          I cried as I ran there, and the memory of everything onwards seems to have been erased, because the next thing I remember was a hospital, brightly lit but dark and creepy. The nurses looked at me strangely, and there weren't any other kids. My hands shook as I drank out of a paper cup.

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	2. Chapter I: Chapter One

Very short, very pathetic. Have a little patience, I'm new here. Pls r/r!

--@EVeRyTHiNG u ReCoGNiZe iS MS. JKROWLiNG'S aND eVeRyTHiNG THaT you DoN'T is MiNe, MiNe, MiNe!@--

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-chapter I-

**Chapter One**

_by stawberri sweetness_

          The next thing I knew there were impossibly spotless doctors and nurses all around me, poking about and asking questions that tickled me as simply stupid. The actual panorama of this in my mind seems rather comic, or very suspicious, because all the doctors and nurses looked exactly if not vaguely like the other. The doctors all had bulging potbellies, variations of caterpillar mustaches and thick round glasses that blurred their identical piggy eyes. The nurses were all superficial and Barbie-like and wore huge plastic smiles and starched white caps that drew my eyes as sure as ice cream.

          When one of the nurses got pretty close, my hand darted directly for that funny hat and snatched it straight off of her plastic head. She didn't say anything but kept on smiling (quite unnervingly) as she struggled to calmly unclasp my fingers from her crumpled hat.

          When one of the doctors (I immediately classified as evil) threatened to spank me if I didn't let go of her hat, it seemed as if they were finished with all their poking around. I yelped when he raised his hand, threw the stupid hat at the nurse and ran for the door. A redheaded doctor (who reminded me of that Ho-ho-ho guy) laughed merrily, apparently amused, and helped me push the impossible door open.

          Outside was the brightly lit chlorine hallways with the plastic turquoise chairs lined in pairs. I scanned the chairs for Papa or Mama, but only found Mr. Black waiting nervously with his ghostly wife. He stood up when he saw me, and his transparent wife turned her head towards me -- or rather, to the doctors that were filing out and pushing me aside.

          Mr. Black was brought aside and talked to, while I sat beside Mrs. Black, swinging my legs. The absence of my parents seemed to worry me no end, though I tried not to show it in front of Mrs. Black. I didn't ask the Blacks where my parents were because I guessed that I wouldn't like the gentle answers they'd give me. I just imagined that Mr. Black was really Papa in disguise, and that Mrs. Black was Mama. And so my Mama smoothed out my hair and stroked it so that I suddenly found myself leaning on her shoulder, half asleep, smiling contently.

          It turned out that I was to stay at the Black's for a few nights until the hospital decided what to do with me. By the time Mr. Black had finished talking with the doctors I was already deep in consoling sleep, and he had to carry me back to his home.

          In the middle of the night, I woke finding myself in the Black's guest room with Mrs. Black hovering around my bed half singing, half chanting a lullaby. By the glowing pink surrounding her eyes, I guessed that she had been crying, but she certainly wasn't crying now. The lights were low and dim, creating a fuzzy sleepy sort of air. I glanced worriedly at Mrs. Black before I returned to wrestle my dreams. I had a strange feeling that she was going to have a pretty warped life. 

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So? What do you think? I know that was pretty short, but pls r/r! (the next one'll be much longer!)


	3. Day One at the Blacks'

Lets see if I can keep this up. :)

* Its the ignorance and the incapability (or refusal) to comprehend and accept her parent's death that makes Lian so untouched (wow, that sounded COOL!)

*hm, if u didn't notice, Lian's spoilt, so her tone's a bit like a whiny spoilt brat's. its not my tone! (though u could say i _am_ a BIT spoilt...)

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-chapter II-

**Day One at the Black's**

by strawberry sweetness

          When I woke up from my troubled sleep, a plump jolly country-lady in a Muggle clothes and a flowery apron greeted me. She made me take a bath the first thing in the morning, scrubbing me till I started to think that I had done something so terribly awful and that this horrid lady was paid to skin me alive. The soap smelled of jasmine and the water was warm and exact, like ours. Martha (the executioner) then stuffed me in robes they'd rescued from my house.

          The rest of the day I spent either running around or eavesdropping on Mr. and Mrs. Black or avoiding Martha. Mr. and Mrs. Black had a guest (a tall man with pale green eyes and a pinched profile) and were talking to him and arranging my parent's funeral. Even though I was as earnest at eavesdropping as I was at avoiding the crazy Martha, I didn't exactly get it in my skull yet that Papa and Mama were gone. Or maybe I just wouldn't accept it.

          The funeral would be tomorrow, and they would be buried at the local graveyard. I had been there once before, it was vast and lush and empty and had only housed ten corpses. Now there would be a dozen.

          When the sun was high and blazing through the January cold, Mr. Black came around to trying to talk to me. I don't think he ever liked me much, he was a stern strict man, and often nagged my father, his best friend, about how spoiled I was. When he came to talk to me, I prepared myself with utter defiance.

          I was sitting in their parlor, swinging my legs as usual, when I just _knew_ that he would come and talk to me in just a few seconds. And come he did.

          I was as clean as Mr. Black (and believe me that was clean) and neat (enough) to make Martha stay at bay, my fingernails weren't dirty and there weren't any visible tears or scrapes. Now he had nothing against me.

          Mr. Black walked into the parlor, looking wry and weary. I guessed that his wife had probably talked him into talking to me, and he didn't really want to. (I later found that that wasn't the exact situation, but that that was just the look he wore whenever he had to talk to me.) He took a breath and sat beside me and silence prevailed. Suddenly he offered me some tea, to which I answered with a perky 'okay' and to which he looked annoyed. I guessed I was supposed to decline.

          I sat with my head clouded by the steam rising from my pot of unsweetened tea while he sat trying to scourge up something to say.

          'You understand, don't you,' he began. I thought that that statement was a question so I nodded vigorously. He ignored me and continued. 'That your parents-'

          'Where are Daedrid and Ian and Sem and James?' I piped in spontaneously. I don't think I really wanted to hear the rest of his little speech.

          Upon this pathetic statement Mr. Black snapped his mouth shut disagreeably. I knew that he probably wanted to hang me out to dry and that he was probably trying his best to be patient with me (however impossible that seemed), but I just couldn't be agreeable. Not now, not here, and definitely not in this situation. 

          'As you know, Daedrid and Sem are at work. They will arrive tonight, or before the funeral.' He said this all matter-of-factly, hoping that I'd miss out the fact that he left out James and Ian's whereabouts.

          'Are they okay?' I squeaked wonderingly as Mr. Black opened his mouth to continue. I squirmed restless in my seat as his jaw firmed.

          'Yes, Alliandra, they're fine.' He took a moment to pause and look at me straight in the eye, as if daring me to speak. I honestly had a lot more to say, but experience had taught me that that look was simply rhetorical.

          'As I was saying: you were there yesterday, when those men broke into Godric's Hollow?' I nodded solemnly, clutching my seat as to stop myself from interrupting. 'And did you see... do you know what... they did?' I nodded, but he seemed to want me to say something.

          'They messed the place up a bit. I guess.' I added as an after thought. He was frowning.

          'Lian, messing the place up wasn't all they did,' he said gently. He had a mighty hand on my shoulder. I tried not to look up at him. 'Your parents, do you what happened to them - where they went - before the men came?'

          I nodded slowly. 'I don't know where Mama went, but Papa - I think he was going up to the attic. But I'm not sure.' Mr. Black was frowning again. I clutched my seat even harder.

          'Do you know where your parents are _now_, Lian?' he said quietly.

          I let out a vague 'dunno' and a simple shrug that strangely didn't seem to annoy him much.

          'Your mother'- his hand grew tighter and heavier on my shoulder -'she was... killed by those men. We... think that your father was killed too - his body was there - but... I'm so sorry Alliandra.' I looked up and found that tears were spilling freely down his cheeks. That sight scared me, because Mr. Black was my model of Immovability. Though I greatly feared him, I greatly admired his unyielding, firm, mountain-y profile. This was something I never even had the guts to imagine, and seeing it made my stomach give a helpless lurch. So badly I didn't bother with the words he'd just said.

          'Are you alright, Mr. Black?' I whispered, afraid. My chubby fingers held the left sleeve of his robes. I was scared that (as an aftereffect of this impossibility,) everything was going to explode on me.

          He straightened rigidly and wiped his eyes with the silk handkerchief he always kept tucked inside his robes. He strained a smile at me and ruffled my hair, and said that I was a sweet kid and that Papa had a right to have been proud of me. There was no remaining pink glow on his face, he became as stern and as firm and immovable as before. But he looks pretty upset as though there was more he wanted to say. But couldn't.

          Mr. Black had gone to King's Cross-to pick Sem up a few hours ago, ordering me to stay behind. Mrs. Black spent the whole day resting, because her fragility got the better of her overnight and so she becomes even more so ghostly. Daedrid had come a few minutes ago, slipping me a pouch of chocolates and candies and curiosities he'd said I'd need to cheer me up. He himself looked pretty bad. He was pale under his recent tan, had dark lines under his eyes and a tendency to start shaking all of the sudden. I was scared he was going to fall apart so I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek before I ran outside.

          The January air wasn't as cold as it had been many years ago, and even the snow was damp and slushy and already full of little specks of dirt. I flinched when my boots squelched and was sweating underneath my winter clothes. It was but a few minutes before I decided to slip back inside when I saw Ian.

          He was pacing at the patio of Godric's Hollow, with a pretty ghostly brunette trying to calm him down. When the girl touched his arm a couple of times, he snatched his arm away or shoved hers off before shouting half-restrained. I wondered why he was there and not at the Black's, where he was probably supposed to be.

          I had decided to walk over to him and ask him if that girl was his girlfriend when he spotted me heading his way. The winter clothes probably made me walk like a penguin and that probably spooked him out because he said something hurriedly to the girl.

          Upon noticing that he saw me, I waved to him and ran over. He was standing by the patio railings and he scowled and stared when I waved, and clutched the railing like he would've liked my neck, and I found half-moon prints left on the wooden rails.

          As I got close enough to see the Ian clearly, I saw that he was holding a little stick under his clutch of the railing and that the girl was no longer there. I stopped when I saw the stick, and identified it to be a wand. I was going to ask him if I could borrow it (I wasn't allowed to 'play' around with them yet) when suddenly he disappeared.

          I ran to the patio when I had made sure my eyes weren't trying to get me into trouble, and into the house even, shouting 'Iaaan! Are you theeere?' The mess left from yesterday was still intact, and I guess my running around messed it up a bit more. When I found no answer and no Ian and no pretty girl, I decided to retreat to the Black's.

          Mr. Black and Sem were already there, and Mr. Black was simply furious that he'd seen me going to Godric's Hollow. He had even waited out in the cold, shouting to me. I didn't seem to have heard and so a greater ball of fury he was.

          'What do you think you're doing, running off to Godric's Hollow like that?'

          'But I saw-'

          'No matter what you saw, don't you think that it might still be _dangerous_?'

          'But it was _important_!' I exclaimed earnestly, though knowing inwardly that Mr. Black wouldn't see the importance.

          'If there was anything important, young lady, you tell us grown-ups, understand?'

          'Then how come Ian-'

          'Its your own duty-' he stopped suddenly, squinting at me, his eyes tight little slits. 'What about Ian?'

          'Then - then why was Ian allowed there? How come he doesn't get a scolding too?' I wept uncontrollably.

          'Ian was there?' Mr. Black's tone wasn't angry anymore, well not so much. He even told me to sit down.

          'Yeah,' I sobbed. 'Ian was there. He and his girlfriend.' I added, simply to make things more complicated for him.

          'His _girlfriend_? What does she... look like?' Mr. Black said this slowly, as if trying to draw something out of me.

          'I - I dunno. She was kinda pretty, I guess'- I wiped my nose with my sleeve upon noticing Daedrid look at me. 'Light brown hair, like Mrs. Black...'

          'Like Mrs. Black? What do you mean?'

          'White.' I said after a moments thought. 'Really white. Like a ghost. And thin.'

          'And what were they doing, Alliandra? Fast, fast!' he said impatiently, flapping hands.

          'They - they just came out of the- the house. Then the girl disappeared. Ian kept on staring at me. He - he seemed to be angry.' I don't think I was crying anymore, because I was squirming in my seat and waiting to get to my room.

          Mr. Black seemed to understand, because he left me and put on his full-length coat and gloves. Daedrid followed him and Mr. Black didn't say anything. I had it in mind to tag along too, but I hadn't yet tried any of the candies Daedrid had given me, and that seemed a lot more important.

          By the time I had satisfied my wanting sugar tooth, Mr. Black and Daedrid hadn't come back yet. I didn't seem to mind this at all, even though I could easily say that Daedrid was my nicest brother. I brought my coloring book and crayons down to the living room where the fire was lit and crackling. The Black's house was made out of stone and that made everything seem colder than it really was.

          There, sitting on the floor cross-legged with a mug of delicious smelling cocoa was my brother, James. I thought he wasn't going to come. He looked a lot younger, exactly like when he was still in school. He was staring straight into the fire, without a single definable look on his face. I decided to ignore him and finish coloring the Unicorn Section, but he didn't seem to like being ignored.

          'What's wrong with you?' he demanded, knocking my crayons aside.

          'Hey! Don't do that!' I screamed, jumping up. 'Nothings wrong with me! I didn't even say anything, you half-brained sissy!' I cried, snatching my coloring book from the floor.

          Anything I said usually got James pissed, and soon he was throwing smart-mouthed insults I later learned to mimic.

          'Don't say that! I'm going to go tell-' I stopped then, wondering what I was supposed to say now that there was no Mama or Papa left to go tell. I guess he wanted to say something like 'who're you going to tell, now?' but knew better.

          'Leave me alone!' I cried, half-faking tears as I ran to my room.

          Before throwing my door open, I looked back at James. He wasn't there.

          I had decidedly skipped dinner and went straight to bed, exhausted. Nobody said anything, though Martha had tried to coax me into eating some pie. The result of early sleep was that I (yet again) woke in the middle of the night, funny faded panoramas galloping before my eyes. Mrs. Black was pacing at my bedside again, whispering a tired worn lullaby. She hadn't been crying and had smiled and stroked my forehead when my eyes fluttered open. She wasn't supposed to be here, she was ill and so frail, but I liked the feeling of a hand on my forehead, however cold and bony.

          'Did you see anything?' she whispered, pulling up a chair and sitting gracefully down.

          'Yes,' I said unsurely.

          'Then don't tell anyone, okay dearie?' she croaked painfully, though her lips were drawn into a pathetic smile. She put a thin finger to her lips. 'No one.'

          'Alright, Mama. Goodnight.'

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